


Apollo Can't Dance

by ShowMeAHero



Series: Easy To Begin, But Hard To End [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And He Doesn't Even Know It For Once, Brotps, But We'll Save That For Another Story, Enjolras Seriously Cannot Dance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Grantaire Is Such A Tease, He Also Probably Would Be A Good Dad, M/M, Romance, like a lot of brotps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras does not know how to act at engagement parties; he did not expect Grantaire to, either, but this whole day is just full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apollo Can't Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from imagineyourotp.tumblr.com that says "Imagine your OTP going out, and Person A is a horrible tease all night - gorgeous clothes, suggestive glances, “accidental” touches. And then they finally get home, and Person B shoves them against the barely-closed door andtakes all of their frustration out on them, much to Person A’s delight."
> 
> This is during their senior year of university.  
> (March 27th, 2015)

Grantaire exited the shower, rubbing himself off with a towel briefly before wrapping it around his waist and ducking into his and Enjolras’ bedroom. Enjolras was there, already mostly dressed, and he barely looked away from where he was tying his tie in the mirror to glance towards Grantaire.

“You need to get dressed, we have to leave soon if we’re going to get there on time.” Enjolras instructed, still fiddling with the thin fabric in his hands. Grantaire sighed, came over, stood in front of Enjolras, and took the red tie into his own hands. He kept his focus on it, folding it neatly until it looked perfect.

“There.” Grantaire pressed his palms flat against Enjolras’ chest and smiled up at him. Enjolras bent his head down the three inches to meet Grantaire’s lips, but the dark-haired man quickly slid away. “Ah, you said I need to get dressed if we’re to be there on time.”

“Yes, well.” Enjolras looked down at his socked feet. “I suppose you do. Get dressed.”

Grantaire looked Enjolras over as his blonde boyfriend moved to the bed to pick up his jacket. He abandoned his towel in the hamper and ignored Enjolras’ eyes on him as he got dressed, only allowing Enjolras’ hands on him at all to tie his tie for him.

“If we stay together for no other reason, we can tie each other’s ties quite well.” Grantaire joked, grinning wildly at Enjolras, who finished the red bow tie with one smooth tug and finally pressed his lips to Grantaire’s lightly.

“I suppose so.” Enjolras mumbled slightly against Grantaire’s lips before pulling away. “Grab your shoes, we’re driving.”

“We can take the motorcycle, it’s not raining.” Grantaire insisted, moving towards the bed to pull his shoes out from under it. Enjolras looked as though he was going to protest, but he hesitated and, instead just nodded.

“Sure, let’s do it.” Enjolras agreed, leaning against the wall beside the door to the bedroom while Grantaire yanked his shoes on. “I’m sure Cosette won’t mind.”

“She won’t mind, she’ll ask for a ride around the block.” Grantaire stood up, finally full dressed. “How do I look?”

“Like we should stay here, and to hell with their engagement party.” Enjolras answered honestly. Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him and breezed past him into the rest of the apartment.

“Am I going to be the responsible one today? That is quite the plot twist, I must admit.” Grantaire teased, lifting Enjolras’ coat from the coat rack and tossing it to the blonde man standing a few feet away from him. “Nonetheless, we’re going. You’re going to be a groomsman, you can’t just not go to the engagement party.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Enjolras conceded, tugging on his coat that matched his tie. “Do you want to be on the back, or shall I?”

“You shall, because I don’t trust you and motorcycles.” Grantaire laughed. He grabbed his keys and the neatly wrapped present - clearly Enjolras’ handiwork - from the table beside the door and motioned. “Shall we?”

* * *

Grantaire was laughing when they roared up outside Cosette’s adoptive father’s large home, parking beside the beat-up old Cadillac that they instantly recognized as Jehan’s. Enjolras hopped off, making sure his worn satchel still had the present in it. Grantaire parked the motorcycle easily and slid off.

“We really should start wearing helmets.” Enjolras commented after looking up at Grantaire. He ran a hand through Grantaire’s messy curls, and Grantaire just laughed.

“Not because we could split our skulls open, but because my hair looks silly.” Grantaire reasoned. Enjolras smiled slightly.

“I suppose so. I feel like I don’t look any better.” Enjolras moved his hand from Grantaire’s hand to his own, but Grantaire smacked his hand away and worked at smoothing the wild blonde curls down himself.

“You look fine.” Grantaire assured him, curving his palm along Enjolras’ jaw for a brief moment. Enjolras leaned into the touch slightly before Grantaire moved, grabbing Enjolras by the hand and half-pulling him up to the door. In lieu of knocking, Grantaire threw the door open himself and announced his presence. Suddenly, Gavroche was running at him, and Grantaire released Enjolras’ hand in order to catch the young boy. He situated Gavroche, lanky and too old for it as the boy was, against his hip.

“You’re all _dressed up_!” Gavroche exclaimed, looking down at Grantaire’s bow tie with surprise before peering to the side. “Hi, Enjolras.”

“Hello, Gavroche.” Enjolras greeted him. Gavroche, deciding that that would be the extent of their conversing, turned back to Grantaire.

“‘Ponine made me dress up, too.” Gavroche scowled, playing with the edge of Grantaire’s bow tie absently. Grantaire nodded, carrying the boy towards the noise he could hear coming from the cavernous living room. Enjolras followed, his fingers playing at the edges of the satchel strap that fell across his chest.

“I can see that. You look very handsome, if I do say so myself.” Grantaire assured him. Gavroche’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You say that to _everyone_.” Gavroche said, exasperated. Grantaire grinned.

“Now, that is simply not true. I have never once told ‘Ponine or Cosette that they’re handsome.” Grantaire argued. Gavroche wrapped one arm around Grantaire’s neck for security, but he threw the other one in the air.

“They’re _girls_ , Grantaire!” Gavroche exclaimed. Enjolras cracked a smile.

“Grantaire also wants to refrain from getting kicked in the-”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Grantaire cut Enjolras off with a side glare as he hitched Gavroche up higher on his hip. Enjolras had to admit, the man was great with children. “Who’s here so far?”

“Everyone except you and Joly and Combeferre. ‘Ponine is hiding in the kitchen, though. She told me to tell you to go in there once you got here. And, you’re here, so. Go in there.” Gavroche recounted, a proud grin fixed on his face when he got everything right. He looked over Grantaire’s shoulder at Enjolras again. “She said you’re not to come, because you’ve got too much logos and not enough pathos.”

Grantaire started laughing, but Enjolras just raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what those words mean?”

“No, but they sound smart, and ‘Ponine’s smart, so I trust ‘em.” Gavroche squirmed slightly, and Grantaire let him slide down to the floor, where he took hold of Enjolras’ hand and tugged him towards the living room. “Courfeyrac said he wanted to see you, though. Something about a party with girls at it.”

“Who lets you into these things?” Enjolras groaned, letting himself be dragged into the hectic living room. Grantaire just offered him a smile as he vanished through the swinging wooden doors of the kitchen. He found Eponine there, seated on a barstool at a counter with her face in her hands.

“Our dear Gavroche sent me this way.” Grantaire said as a way of greeting her. Eponine lifted her head up from her hands and met his eyes.

“I can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore.” Eponine said sadly before tears started falling down at her face at an alarming pace. Grantaire stepped forward and let her fall against him. She pressed her face to his chest, her hands gripping his lapels tightly as she twisted around on the barstool.

“Shh, ‘Ponine. It’s going to be alright.” Grantaire said softly, pressing a kiss to Eponine’s dark, eloquently curled hair.

“It’s not fair. I love him.” Eponine sobbed against Grantaire. Grantaire ran his hands over her back soothingly. “I love him.”

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t fair. You love him.” Grantaire looked up as the door opened and Jehan poked his head in. Grantaire raised a hand and waved him off; Jehan nodded jerkily and vanished through the swinging doors again. “Hey, ‘Ponine.”

“Yeah?” Eponine said softly against his jacket.

“It’s not fair. At all. But you’re so amazing, so lovely, so beautiful and dedicated and passionate. You’re going to find someone even better than Marius, and he’ll love you so much.” Grantaire let his cheek rest against the top of Eponine’s head. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” Eponine hiccupped, but her crying slowed. Grantaire pressed another kiss to her hair.

“Yes, I can, and I will. I know it for a fact to be true.” Grantaire pulled back slightly to look down at her. “So, I promise you.”

“Thank you.” Eponine wiped at her face. “I thought I’d be able to do this.”

“You are a stronger person than I. I never would have been able to do something like this.” Grantaire kissed her forehead and took her hand. “Look at you. Even after crying, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop.” Eponine laughed tearfully, gripping his hand a little tighter than she usually would. Grantaire looked down at her face and deemed it acceptably tear-free enough for the crowd outside.

“So long as it’s true, I will never stop. Not until the day I die.” Grantaire pulled her towards the kitchen door. “Come along, we have a party to attend, and you look ravishing, and your dress is lovely and matches my tie.”

“Which matches Enjolras’ tie, I’m sure. Where is he?” Eponine asked, allowing herself to be led into the living room. Grantaire had been expecting it to be filled with people, but he was not sure why; he knew that Cosette did not have family beyond her adoptive father, and Marius had been disowned by his only living relative; the only family member there was the adoptive father in question, Professor Valjean. Grantaire scanned the room and quickly located Enjolras.

“There.” Grantaire pointed towards where Cosette was holding Enjolras’ hands and trying to make him dance. Enjolras looked mortified; his face was bright red, and he was most definitely not dancing. He looked up just as Grantaire spotted him, and he looked almost desperate for escape.

“He looks like he needs saving.” Eponine commented. Grantaire raised his chin, acting as though he were appraising the situation. He smiled and turned to look back down at Eponine.

“We will let Cosette enjoy her engagement party. Come dance with me.” Grantaire spun Eponine towards the middle of the room where a couple of their others friends were dancing joyfully; Eponine laughed the whole way there.

* * *

 Enjolras looked up just in time to see Grantaire grin at him and pull Eponine to the small area where Bossuet, Joly, Bahorel, and Feuilly were dancing with each other wildly. He spun the girl around, and even he could not help but notice how well they matched together. They looked lovely dancing together, and Cosette’s brow furrowed as she noticed him looking at the dancers. She turned to look at the group, still gripping Enjolras’ hands, and she laughed when she spotted Grantaire.

“Distracted, I see.” Cosette commented, turning back to Enjolras, who did not answer her right away. He was too busy watching Grantaire with Eponine; he had never known him as a smooth dancer, though he was generally charming person. Whenever they went dancing, it was always to clubs with fast music and thick crowds. Seeing Grantaire here, dressed in a fine-cut suit that fit him perfectly, moving in a way that Enjolras had never seen before... it was an entirely new experience. He found himself being shaken slightly by Cosette.

“Yes, I’m sorry, what did you say?” Enjolras asked, tearing his gaze away to meet Cosette’s bright blue eyes.

“I said you’re distracted, which you very clearly are.” Cosette tugged on his hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“No, no. I don’t dance. Not even with Grantaire. I just... don’t.” Enjolras let his arms be moved as Cosette jumped up and down. “I am content to watch, I assure you.”

“Fine. But do not come crying to me when he dances like that with everyone except you.” Cosette swept in to kiss him on the cheek, and Enjolras smiled at her.

“You look lovely, if I haven’t told you yet.” Enjolras told her in a low voice. “Very lovely.”

“Thank you. And you look dashing. Thank you for coming.” Cosette spun away from him, finding Marius as though they were two magnets who had been separated for too long. Enjolras leaned against the wall there, looking around at the tables around that center area of floor. It was not long before his eyes were drawn back to Grantaire, who was approaching him at a frankly alarming rate. He did not grab him and drag him towards the dancers, however; instead, he just leaned against the wall beside Enjolras, bending his leg to press one foot against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out at the room, just like Enjolras was.

“You look like you’re having as much fun as a cat in a bathtub.” Grantaire said aloud after a moment. Enjolras raised an eyebrow, but he did not look down at Grantaire, which prompted the dark-haired man to shift so that he was standing in front of Enjolras. “Come on. We can have fun together.”

“The way you say that makes me think that you don’t mean a traditional type of fun.” Enjolras commented, finally looking at Grantaire, who tsked and reached for Enjolras’ lapels.

“Now, I don’t want to just disappear from the party. It’s not our party to ruin.” Grantaire smoothed out his lapels and leaned up so that his lips were right next to Enjolras’ ear. “We can have that kind of fun later.”

Enjolras swallowed and, when Grantaire pulled back, his pupils were dark and blown wide. He leaned forward to kiss Grantaire, but the shorter man lifted his hand and pressed two fingers to Enjolras’ lips.

“No.” Grantaire whispered simply, running his hands down Enjolras’ chest before disappearing back into the crowd of their friends on the dance floor. Enjolras sighed, sank back against the wall, and tried to keep his eyes off of Grantaire.

* * *

 “I brought you chicken. I know how you like chicken.” Grantaire said, placing a plate of chicken and macaroni down in front of Enjolras at the table he was seated at. He had a plate full of mashed potatoes and rolls for himself, and he looked delighted as he sat down in the seat beside his boyfriend. “Are you having fun?”

“Of course.” Enjolras smiled, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork and throwing it into his mouth absently. “Are you?”

“Of _course_.” Grantaire leaned against Enjolras as he tore a role apart. “You should come dance with me, honestly. It’s fun.” He held up a piece of the roll to Enjolras’ mouth. Enjolras looked around to make sure nobody happened to be glancing their way before opening his mouth to accept the bread. “Who do you think is going to see us, or even be surprised? We’ve been dating for over two years. We’re allowed to touch each other.”

“I know.” Enjolras said defensively. “It’s just... I have a reputation to uphold?”

“Not with them.” Grantaire reminded him, a smirk dancing on his face as he took a bite of his bread. He offered some to Enjolras again, and, this time, the blonde bit the food from his hand without hesitation.

“That’s a shame.” Enjolras muttered, choosing to just accept that that is the truth. He held up a piece of chicken, and Grantaire took it from him with his mouth, making eye contact as he did so. Enjolras swallowed and did not look away; Grantaire grinned smugly as he pulled back to chew.

“Damn shame.” Grantaire agreed, leaning further against Enjolras, humming quietly to himself as he tore his rolls apart and ate them bit by bit. Enjolras tried to ignore him as best he could and eat his chicken. Grantaire finished eating before him, and he stood, pressing a kiss to Enjolras’ hair before sweeping away to parts unknown. Enjolras sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

* * *

 “You have _got_ to be kidding me.” Enjolras murmured under his breath, watching Grantaire spinning Gavroche around. The boy was standing on Grantaire’s feet, laughing, his small head thrown back. Grantaire was grinning widely, his jacket long abandoned, his bow tie undone and his sleeves rolled up. Jehan appeared beside him, crossing his arms and mimicking the pose that Enjolras was in at the edge of the makeshift dance floor.

“What’s going on, oh, fearless leader? Something wrong?” Jehan looked over at Enjolras’ stony face. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. No fights, no speeches. It’s frankly unnerving.”

“I’m just tired, I think.” Enjolras said quickly. He looked down at his feet and began rubbing absently at the back of his head.

“Well, the party is almost over. You may go home and ...sleep, soon.” Jehan assured him. Enjolras looked up at Grantaire again, and Jehan followed his line of vision. “Sleep. Right.”

“Grantaire was right, I have no reputation to uphold with any of you anymore.” Enjolras grumbled. Jehan grinned at him and slapped him on the back before getting whirled away by Bahorel. Grantaire came up to him then, Gavroche clinging to his back and laughing wildly. The grin on Grantaire’s face was blinding.

“Come dance with me. Please.” Grantaire said more than asked, his smile turning into a more pleading expression.

“Come on, Enjolras, pleaaaaaase.” Gavroche whined, pouting at Enjolras. Enjolras sighed, and both Grantaire and Gavroche took this as a surrender. Gavroche slid from Grantaire’s back and ran back into the crowd of their friends; Grantaire took Enjolras’ hand and tugged him towards the rest. Enjolras stripped his jacket off, threw it over Grantaire’s on the chair he had been sitting in earlier, and allowed himself to be pulled to the group of dancers.

“I love you.” Grantaire said the moment before they entered the six pairs of dancers on the floor; Marius lingered off to the side as Cosette danced with her father.

“I’m not good at dancing.” Enjolras replied. Grantaire smiled at him again.

“You are good at so many things. I’m surprised this is not among them.” Grantaire shifted in place. He took Enjolras’ hand and placed it on his hip, then took Enjolras’ other hand in his own. He placed his own free hand on Enjolras’ hip and moved slightly. “Let me lead, okay? You’ll do fine.”

Enjolras nodded, his blonde head bowing to look at his and Grantaire’s feet moving. Grantaire’s breath was spreading across his face, and he looked so happy and carefree while they danced, moving smoothly from step to step while Enjolras stumbled through the movements. Grantaire pressed his head against Enjolras’ shoulder, and both of them relaxed against each other.

“I love you, too.” Enjolras murmured, turning his head towards Grantaire’s. He kissed Grantaire’s temple and let Grantaire lead him through the slow dance.

* * *

 They raced the whole way home on the motorcycle, Grantaire driving and Enjolras clinging to him the whole way, his face buried in Grantaire’s back, between his shoulder blades, to protect him from the wind whipping at his face. Once they reached their building, Enjolras all but carried Grantaire up the stairs, he pulled him so fast. Grantaire barely got his key in the door before Enjolras was shoving it open. Grantaire slammed the door behind him, and it was a matter of mere milliseconds before Enjolras had him shoved against it.

“And Cosette says your passion comes out wrong.” Grantaire chuckled. Enjolras nearly growled; a low, primitive noise rose in the back of his throat.

“Shut up.” Enjolras wound his hands tightly in Grantaire’s hair and began kissing him furiously. “Do you even know what you looked like tonight, you damn tease.” Grantaire shook his head, still trying desperately to keep contact with Enjolras. “You looked beautiful. The greatest thing I’ve ever seen. God.” Enjolras yanked a little too roughly at Grantaire, and the two of them toppled over onto the floor.

"Love you." Grantaire mumbled against Enjolras' lips.

"Show me." Enjolras responded at once, ignoring the fact they had fallen to the floor. He flipped Grantaire onto his back and took control.

* * *

Enjolras woke up on the floor, very confused and quite uncomfortable. He was also somewhat cold. He sat up, pressing a hand to his head, before he realized he was naked. It took him another moment for him to notice that Grantaire was awake, sitting in of the armchairs that were near Enjolras' feet at the moment; Grantaire currently had a small easel set up, a palette in his right hand and a paintbrush in his left. He looked very frustrated with Enjolras.

"Did you really have to move?" Grantaire asked, exasperated. Enjolras frowned.

"Are you painting me again?" Enjolras ran a hand through his hair. "Do you not have enough yet?"

Grantaire shot him a withering look. "Had you seen you, you would have wanted to paint, too. I had to."

"I understand." Enjolras waved ardently at the place on the floor where he had slept. "Do you want me to go back?"

"No, it's fine. I'm almost there." Grantaire returned his focus to the painting; he bit his lip without seeming to notice. "You just wait until I have to do my still life drawing, 'cause that's coming up soon."

"Lovely." Enjolras replied, forcing himself off the floor. He noted that he was still naked; a glance at Grantaire let him notice what he not before. Grantaire was wearing a pair of boxers and one of Enjolras' old, red, too-long pajama shirts that he often wore when painting. Enjolras picked up his pants from the day before off the floor and tugged them on so he did not feel so exposed. He came up behind Grantaire's armchair to look at the canvas. Grantaire finished what seemed to be the last touch with a flourish before sitting back and tipping his head so that he could see Enjolras leaning over him towards the canvas.

"What do you think?" Grantaire prompted when Enjolras did not speak.

"First of all, nobody besides us is ever seeing this. It's obscene." Enjolras peered closer at the painting as Grantaire turned back to the wet painting and nodded; that was a condition that cropped up more often that not in paintings of Enjolras. "Second, I always look so... ethereal, in your work. Divine. I look so divine. Why?"

"Because, Apollo, you are divine." Grantaire considered his painting. "This may explain why my art professor thinks I have a thing for Greek mythology, come to think of it."

"You are absurd." Enjolras commented, a smile sneaking onto his face.

"Yes, well, the best painters are the ones who were called 'absurd' in their times." Grantaire told him, tipping his head back again. "You like it?"

"Love it." Enjolras corrected, leaning down to kiss Grantaire as deeply as he could from that angle. He could see, from his new vantage point, a trail of bite marks starting on Grantaire's neck and vanishing beneath his pajama shirt. "Did I do that?"

"No, Marius did." Grantaire laughed at Enjolras' expression. "Of course you did. You should see my hips. I'm telling you, you are very rarely in such a state. Very exciting. You're usually like that after some sort of successful rally or something."

"Mm." Enjolras agreed, not seeming to think about what had been said as he sank against the armchair tiredly; he pressed his face into Grantaire's neck.

"Even if I took a video, no one would believe what you're like when they're not around." Grantaire complained. Enjolras shrugged with one shoulder.

"Drawback number eight hundred and six." Enjolras mumbled against Grantaire's skin. "Never stopped you before."

"Oh, Apollo." Grantaire reached up, winding his hand in Enjolras’ hair and pulling him a bit closer. “I love everything about you.”

Enjolras hummed and pulled himself forward over the back of the armchair and into Grantaire’s lap. Grantaire set the palette down on the floor and accepted Enjolras onto him.

“You are definitely still asleep.” Grantaire laughed. Enjolras did not respond; he already had fallen back asleep, his face pressed into Grantaire’s neck. Grantaire took advantage of the opportunity to lift his left hand and paint a small picture on Enjolras’ forearm.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a good amount of this while I was partially asleep, so, if there are some problems, that's why.
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
